


Wanna feel warm again

by ChilliPenguins



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Character Death, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Jaskier | Dandelion Whump, M/M, Mortal Jaskier | Dandelion, Post-Episode: S01E06 Rare Species, small mention of violence/gore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-04
Updated: 2020-06-04
Packaged: 2021-03-03 18:49:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24540337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChilliPenguins/pseuds/ChilliPenguins
Summary: Jaskier is alone and cold in his last moments.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 16
Kudos: 158





	Wanna feel warm again

For a man who loved so much, Jaskier didn't have much love for himself. Alas it’s only when he’s lying prone on his back, looking at the sky and bleeding out when he acknowledges this. A tragic death is fitting. Dramatic irony, that he should die lovelorn and yearning like the lovesick fools in his ballads. 

What felt like days ago, was years ago - when he was trudging down that cursed mountain away from that stupid dragon, that stupid djinn, that stupid witch and his stupid witcher. 

Jaskier always felt more than others, he never shied away from that. He wore it proudly in fact - he fell in love quickly and deeply and often too.

But with Geralt, it was never so easy.

Jaskier was smitten from the moment he laid his eyes on his witcher in that backwater tavern. And from there, it was like rolling down a hill without ever slowing down or stopping. He fell in love with the little things Geralt did, the way he would ensure Jaskier’s bedroll to be nearer to the fire, the little quirk of his lips when he would've thought Jaskier wasn't paying attention during his performances. Of course, Jaskier's eyes were always on the witcher. Then there was his adorably noble and gruff heart, even if he wasn't the best with words. 

Geralt would always have his heart, even if he was crushed and shattered.

“If Destiny had one blessing, it would be to take you off my hands.”

Every step Jaskier took tore at his little heart but he had dignity. At least he left with dignity, he tried to convince himself at the time. 

Jaskeir mentally scoffs at the thought now - what use is dignity if he dies?

All that fury and betrayal and sadness, just feels cold now. 

He feels cold now. 

At some point Jaskier thought that his life was getting back on track, after all those months of sleeping around. At first, belting out his fury and scorn through his songs was satisfying. However, after a while Her Last Kiss felt tainted with anger, with raw anger, with sadness. And so, he stopped performing it along with Toss a Coin to Your Witcher. He would hear another bard butchering the songs sometimes, but when he’s coddled by fair maidens he could care less. He would flutter from one lover to another, just for some warmth. 

He was just on his way to Oxenfurt to visit for the summer, after which he would head to the coast - just like he always wanted, planned to with somebody he had in mind. 

He planned to feel the warm breeze through his hair, muscles and fingers loose from the sun’s rays. To feel cozy with someone his heart longs for. 

It feels rather distant now, with cold blood seeping through his beautiful doublet and fingers. 

He didn't expect them, a group of bandits ambushing him while he was travelling through the dense forest. He suppose the familiar scenery, the forest and roads that he had travelled with Geralt before, he supposes that they made him nostalgic, lured him in a sense of familiarity. Travelling with his witcher, Jaskier never really made it a habit to be alert. Not when he had Geralt there to protect him. 

They crowded him, mugging him of all his stuff - his pack, his coins and his  _ lute  _ . 

Then they gutted him, slit his throat and knifed his stomach once they had stripped him of nearly everything. He was naive to think he could try to charm his way out of this one. Travelling with Geralt really did shield him from the crueller monsters. 

But now, he’s left bleeding out on the cool autumn floor of the forest. He wasn't aware of what happened after, but when he came to he was lying on his back with his eyes towards the sky. 

_ “I don’t need anyone to need me.”  _

The sky was beautiful tonight, like every other night he spent with Geralt. 

Jaskier never really took to looking up at the night sky after they had parted - he never felt quite as safe to do so anymore. 

_ “Well, here we are.” _

But it was still as beautiful as he remembered. 

  
  


Feeling cold isn't as bad, he tries to comfort himself. Cold - that was how Geralt always described Kaer Morhen to him, in his gruff monosyllabic gorgeous witcher way. 

Jaskier can't feel his fingers, can't really hear the crickets of the forest or the flicker of fire from his camp in the distance. But he still tries and when he can't, he imagines. 

He imagines being at Kaer Morhen, feeling a bit chilly as he is now. He imagines feeling cold and shivering, and how Geralt would throw his cloak at him and grumble how Jaskier should have known to dress warmer. 

Jaskier can’t see much of the night sky anymore, but he closes his eyes. 

He closes his eyes and sees beautiful golden eyes. Eyes looking at him, and warming him again. 

**Author's Note:**

> It's been a while since I've wrote again, but i still hope you enjoy this? Or as least feel as emotionally destroyed as I did.


End file.
